satyr 1,314 Posted June 18, 2020 Popular Post Share Posted June 18, 2020 I read a local news story about a man who hid under an outhouse to peep at unsuspecting people using the bathroom from below. Yes, really. This real-life incident inspired me to write this completely fictional story. A tale of wet pants, old perverts and young love. Julia regretted her decision to pick up both a latte and a large iced tea at their last stop. Mostly, she regretted not having gone to pee. Now, she was squirming, her bladder feeling like a balloon ready to burst. She had to make an effort not to squeeze the crotch of her denim shorts. Her parents were chattering in the front seats, oblivious to her struggle. They rolled past a sign: REST STOP 1 KM. Julia wanted to ask for a pit stop, but she happened to know all the rest stop restrooms around here were glorified outhouses. She’d been around here before, every summer, in fact—they were on their way to the family’s inherited cottage out in the middle of nowhere. She hadn’t wanted to go—she was definitely old enough to be left alone for two weeks. For god’s sake, she was eighteen and going to university in the fall! But her parents had pleaded with her that they weren’t going to see much of her when she moved out, and wouldn’t it be nice to have a little family vacation together before she left the nest for good? She was too kind-hearted to deny them. So. She sat there, enduring the agony. Her bladder screamed at her, firing jolts of almost electric pain up her spine. Julia discreetly squeezed her crotch, careful not to alert her parents. They were almost there. Thirty minutes, forty-five at the most. She could last that long, couldn’t she? Five minutes later, she wasn’t so sure. An especially powerful wave of pressure wracked her midsection, and she instinctively pretzeled her feet and grabbed her crotch in a vise grip. For a few terrifying seconds, she was afraid she was going to lose control and spray the seat like a garden hose, but the intense feeling of being on the verge of a cliff let go, settling back into a dull, ever-present pain. She bit her lip and shifted her weight around in the seat, but no matter how she sat, she was still on the verge of having a very humiliating accident. “Oh, honey,” said her mother. Julia looked up and met her mother’s eyes. They were green, like hers, and now she was frowning in a mask of concern. “You should have told us you had to go. David,” she said, addressing her father, “turn around the car, we passed a rest stop a few minutes ago.” “Is that really necessary? Can’t I just pull over and...” “Yes,” her mother said, exasperated, “there’s no modesty around here.” Julia looked out the window and saw that her mother was right: they’d just come out of a forest and were now driving along the sea, with a cliff wall on one side and a steep ravine down to the ocean on the other, only a metal railing separating them from the drop. “I’m f-f-fine, really,” she stammered. “Oh, honey, I can see you’re not,” said her mother. Julia blushed. Embarrassing. Bad enough that she had to pee worse than she could ever remember, but to have her mother treat her like a child who couldn’t be trusted to know when she had to pee? She wanted to dig a hole and disappear into it. Maybe she’d come out on the other side and be in China, and she could start a little village apothecary, sell herbs and potions to the villagers like some little witch. The thought distracted her from her urgent need, but only for a minute. Meanwhile, her father had found a spot where the road widened sufficiently to perform a probably illegal u-turn. Now they were hurtling along back the way they came, towards the rest stop and that nasty outhouse. By the time they arrived, however, she had to begrudgingly admit that she was grateful for her mother’s babying. She could definitely not have waited much longer. Her father pulled in and parked. Julia now had both her hands buried deep within her crotch. Her panties were damp and she wasn’t sure it was all sweat. She tried to release one hand to undo her seat belt, but as she let go, she was hit by another terrifying wave of pressure down below, and had to replace her hand in her lap, bending over to avoid wetting herself. “Let me get that for you,” said her mother, opening the door and bending over her to undo the seat belt. Julia bore this further humiliation without comment only because she couldn’t focus on anything but her need to pee. Once she was free of her restraints, she grabbed her mother’s hand and let herself be pulled upright, crossing her legs and biting her lip. She felt a leak on the verge of escaping, so she didn’t dare walk normally. Instead, she shuffled towards the outhouse with her hands in her crotch like a toddler. Her cheeks were warm and must be shading through magenta to blood red by now. Why had she not asked to stop earlier? Julia managed to open the door to the outhouse one-handed and slipped inside, not even bothering to close the door properly. There were no electric lights in the room, only a window set high on the wall, and she could just barely make out the toilet lid. She shuffled over, opened the lid, and began unbuttoning her shorts. Then she noticed it: there was somebody in the toilet. She jumped back with an undignified squeak and felt her panties start to become warmer and moister. Julia edged back to the hole in the little bench. She must be seeing things that weren’t there. But no: a pair of eyes looked up at her, barely catching the angled light from the window. This time, she screamed. She screamed, jumped back, and ran for the door. In her terror, she couldn’t focus on holding it, and she was vaguely aware that her shorts were getting warm, she was dripping. Wetness was sliding down her legs, some droplets landed in her sandals. She continued to pee as she ran towards the car. “Oh, sweetheart,” her mother said, at the same time as Julia yelled, “there’s somebody hiding in the outhouse!” “What?” Said her father. Her mother looked at her with pity in her eyes. Julia stopped and looked down at herself. She was still peeing, a slow trickle now rather than a flood. The denim of her shorts was soaked through. She felt it on her butt, and there was a large half-circle stretching from her crotch all the way out to the ornamental pockets. Tendrils of urine were still sliding down her smooth legs, which she’d shaved the day before. “Julia, why didn’t you tell us you had to go so bad?” Her mother asked. “What’s this about somebody hiding in the outhouse?” Her father demanded. He was normally calm, but now he seemed livid. His face was going purple, his brow pulled down into an angry frown. There were few things that could get him worked up like this. Actually, just two: taxes and threats against his daughter. “I’m going to get the bastard,” said her father, charging for the outhouse. “Dad, wait!” Julia yelled. “What!” He turned around and nearly spat the word out, more of a demand than a question. “He’s not actually in the outhouse—he’s under it! Like, looking up through the hole!” “What in the actual...” Her father mumbled, and threw open the door. Her mother had put her hands around Julia’s shoulders. “Honey, aren’t you a little old to be scared of toilet monsters? I understand that you’re embarrassed about having an accident, but...” “Mom!” Julia put her hands on her hips in a frustrated gesture, but that only got her hands wet. “I’m telling you, someone was in there, looking up at me!” “Honey,” her mother said, looking down on her—she was very tall for a woman, taller than her dad, and Julia had never hated that fact more than now—“It was probably just a trick of the light. Now, we need to get you changed...” “There’s nobody there,” said her father, emerging from the outhouse. Her mother had opened the trunk and was rummaging through their bags, looking for a change of clothes. Julia stood there, blushing, looking down on the evidence of her accident and not daring to look anyone in the eye. “Bastard must have got away...” Said her father. “David, don’t encourage her,” said her mother. “She’ll have nightmares. Let’s just chalk this up to an unfortunate accident. You saw how desperate she was, David,” she said, when her father tried to interject. “Sure,” said her father. “Sure, sure. But still, if there’s any chance there’s a predator on the loose...” “It was just a trick of the light,” said her mother. There had never been any doubt about who wore the pants in their relationship. “Right, honey?” “Right,” said Julia, defeated. She couldn’t argue when her mother was in one of her moods. This was one of the reasons why she didn’t want to go on this vacation in the first place: she could only take her mother’s bossy demeanor for so long. At least at home she could go somewhere else. In their tiny cottage, there wasn’t much room for privacy. Julia needed a place to be grumpy alone, and all she had was a forest. She liked that forest, sure, but if it was raining or a thunderstorm came in, she’d rather be inside. Packed like sardines in a can with her overbearing mother and a doormat for a father. “Here,” said her mother, handing over a fresh shirt, a pair of pink panties, and another pair of shorts. “You can go change in the outhouse.” “I’m not going in there again,” Julia said. “I’ll find a towel and hold it up for you,” her father suggested. Her mother begrudgingly agreed. Perhaps she’d spent her allotted portion of domineering for the day. “Dad,” Julia whispered, as she wriggled free of her wet garments behind the towel, “I need to talk to you later. Alone.” Her father nodded. Somewhat satisfied—at least she didn’t have to pee anymore—she grabbed some paper tissues, patted herself down, and dressed again. “I really thought she was past the age where this would happen,” her mother mumbled as they got back into the car. Maya walked the last part of the trail very quickly. She’d been outside hiking for hours, and with the sun at its peak, her water flask had seen plenty of use. Now, she really needed to pee, and it was almost to the point where she considered going behind a bush. But she knew there was an outhouse at the end of the trail, and she wanted a little bit of privacy. It was a popular trail, and the last thing she wanted was a group of curious teenagers getting a look at her downstairs region au natural. Finally, she saw the end of the trail. Maya drained the last dregs of her flask, put it back in her backpack, and jogged the last bit up to the outhouse. It was a wooden building with a little circular window high up on the side wall. She opened the door, locked it, and hurried to get down her shorts—they were tight cotton and ended just above the underside of her butt cheeks, a risque look she only dared to go for outside of town. Not that her mother would approve even here on the trail, but that was part of the reason she did it. She slid down her panties, whipped up the lid and sat down. Maya closed her eyes for a moment as she began to pee, a very satisfying relief. But then she opened her eyes and made the mistake of looking straight down into the hole. It was a brief moment, but it was enough: she didn’t see the dark pit she’d expected. Instead, she saw a pair of eyes. “Fuck!” She yelled, throwing herself off the seat and running for the door. She was still peeing—once she began, she couldn’t stop. She hiked up her shorts and threw the door open, still urinating. Maya cursed again and put a hand between her legs to help stem the flow. She got it under control, but now her hand was wet, and the damage was evident on her shorts. There was a rustle in the leaves behind the outhouse. Maya turned around and saw a dark shape disappear from behind the outhouse and into the woods. “Hey! Asshole! Stop!” She yelled. The figure stopped for a moment. Oh, crap. She was just venting her frustration, and hadn’t considered what would happen if the guy actually confronted her. She was a nineteen-year-old girl, unarmed, and this guy was a pervert who might not stop at simply peeping. Crap, crap, crap? Weapons? She looked around to see if there were any rocks or sticks or anything she could use to defend herself. But then the figure began moving again and disappeared into the forest, and she was glad for it. Jesus, she thought, who the fuck hides under an outhouse—you know, the place where all the piss and shit goes—just to sneak a peek? This is more of a Stinkin’ Tom than a Peeping Tom. Maya set a quick pace along the path that would lead to the main road. Usually, she took a shortcut home through another little forest, but she didn’t feel like being alone in the woods right now. Even at high noon, she was a little wary of encountering the creep again, even if he had been heading in the opposite direction. Maya felt her wet shorts chafe at her. Now that the immediate threat was dealt with, she had to deal with the other, wetter problem. She couldn’t go home like this. When she was younger, Maya had a habit of just peeing in her pants when she was outside in the summer. It would simply dry in the sun, and she hadn’t been that embarrassed by it, since she almost always did it when she was completely alone, playing in the woods until the evidence dried. But her mother had discovered it by the smell of her clothes, and she’d put a very effective stop to it with a punishment of the grounding kind. Now, she was technically an adult, so her mother couldn’t really punish her, but her mother was also technically not obliged to let her stay at home over the university summer break. All of which meant that practically, she couldn’t go home like this. Her mom would freak out and assume she did it on purpose. Then she had a bright idea. Julia’s family were arriving soon, weren’t they? Maybe they’d already arrived. Julia was Maya’s summer friend. Her family owned a cabin around here and visited every year. They barely ever spoke to each other during the rest of the year, but since they were children, they’d been best friends for two or three weeks every summer. She hadn’t thought Julia was coming this year—she knew the relationship between her and her parents was rocky, if only in a typical teenager way, not, like, a “dad beats me and mom is a drunk” kind of way—but Julia had messaged her only a few days before saying she’d be coming after all. Maybe she could borrow some clothes from Julia until her own dried up—then she could sneak back home with dried pee-pants like the old days. The thought almost made her nostalgic. Even dealing with the creep, she’d had more fun today than she’d had almost all year. University had made her far more serious than she liked. And speaking of that creep, she really needed to speak to someone about him. That settled it. Maya took a shortcut through some shrubs, then walked a small path up to the back of the cabin. “Ahoy!” She yelled, like a sailor. Seemed like the right thing to do, let people know she was there so it didn’t seem like she was skulking around the back like a… pervert. “Maya? Is that you?” A voice from the front. It was Julia! “Yeah, Jules, it’s me. You won’t believe what just happened...” “Come around the front,” said Julia’s mother. Maya walked around the cabin. She’d completely forgotten about her wet shorts until she noticed the look on Julia’s mother. “Oh, dear, did you fall in a bog or did you have a little accident?” “Uh,” Maya stammered. “Yeah, something like that...” Not even bothering to specify which. “Listen, Jules, can I borrow some clothes until mine dry? I really need to tell you something.” “Sure,” Julia said. She’d cut her golden hair shorter, but shorter only meant it now went to just below her shoulders, not all the way to the small of her back. Cute, she found herself thinking, and then, is it okay for me to think that? Julia smiled and linked her arm in Maya’s, the way they used to when they were little. “Don’t worry about the accident, dear, you’re not the only one this summer,” said Julia’s mother. “Mom!” Julia yelled. “Wait, what?” Maya said as they retreated into the sanctuary of the cabin. “Did you have an accident? Did your mother?” “Wait,” Julia said, “you really didn’t fall in a bog, did you? You actually peed yourself.” She raised an eyebrow. “Well, obviously, but you first,” Maya said. Julia was the only one she’d allowed to see her wet—well, deliberately wet, at least. She always found it weird and refused to partake in Maya’s odd habit, but she’d never made a big deal out of it, either that she did it or that she stopped doing it. “Oh my god,” Julia said, “my mom is such a bitch,” the last word whispered so nobody could overhear. “Yes, actually, you won’t believe this: we stopped at this rest stop and I went to pee, and there was someone hiding under the outhouse!” “What?” Maya stopped. “That’s exactly what happened to me!” Julia’s eyes widened. “What? You’re serious?” “That’s what I wanted to tell you! I was just sitting there peeing in the outhouse by the end of the Wind Creek trail, and then I saw a pair of eyes staring at me from down below, and I just ran, and I guess I didn’t stop peeing.” “Oh my god! He actually saw you? I mean, naked?” “Yeah.” Maya shuddered. “Definitely. He didn’t see you?” “I saw him before I got my shorts down and I got so scared I just ran. I guess he scared the piss out of me.” She giggled, and Maya couldn’t help but join in. “It’s creepy. What if he’s, like, a rapist, scoping out his next victim?” Julia said. “I was just thinking how much he must stink, sitting down there in the filth for who knows how long.” “That, too.” “We need to call the police or something,” Maya said. “My mom doesn’t believe me,” Julia said, brushing a strand of her soft hair away from her eyes. “She thinks I made it up to cover up for having an accident. It was so humiliating. My dad is fired up about it, but he’s such a doormat, he’s terrified of making my mom upset.” “So he didn’t call the police?” “He told me he actually did. But, like, he got up super early in the morning, like he was a drunk trying to hide a morning drink or something from my mom, and he called them before she woke up. They said they would be on the lookout, but my dad thinks they’re not taking it seriously. Not unless they catch the guy red-handed.” They were now in the tiny room that served as Julia’s sleeping quarters. It barely held enough room for a bed and her suitcase. “Just look through there,” Julia said, and pointed at the suitcase. “Pick something you like, it’s all the same to me. I think we’re about the same size in everything, right?” Maya looked her friend over, from top to bottom. She’d been a little shorter the year before; now, they stood the same height, and she had grown in the thighs and the chest, but she still had the same slender tummy. She quickly redirected her gaze away from her friend’s breasts, shook her head to get the image out of her mind. Instead, she began unceremoniously stripping off her wet things. Nudity was nothing new between them: they’d gone skinny-dipping plenty of times. Now, though, the feeling of her friend’s eyes on her—neutral, unjudging, neither too interested nor disinterested—it was different. No matter. She needed to get out of her wet clothes, and she definitely wasn’t going to chase Julia out. Once she had dressed again, in Julia’s thong and a floral summer dress, the pair headed into the living room, which also served as kitchen and dining room. There was a propane stove top on a bench in a corner, next to a window—of course there wasn’t any mechanical ventilation. In another corner stood a small sofa, a couple of garish green chairs that must be family heirlooms (otherwise why keep them), a table, a cabinet full of plates and glasses. A book case stood by the door to the bedrooms, full of old penny Westerns and a giant dictionary that spanned multiple volumes. Maya knew it was the arbiter of family disputes during games of Scrabble. They sat down by the table, Julia circling the wood with her finger as if she was distracted by something. “I know what we have to do,” she said finally. “What’s that?” Maya asked. “Catch the bastard ourselves. Stake out an outhouse, wait for the creep to crawl under it, then call the police and watch them crush him like a spider underfoot.” “Wow, bloodthirsty.” “But just,” Julia said. “I like the way you think,” Maya said, “but what if he catches us instead?” “Oh,” Julia said. “Good point.” “On the other hand,” Maya said, an idea starting to form, “I know these woods like the back of my palm.” “Yeah,” Julia said, smiling. “You must know where we can set up without being seen.” “I do. I also know a couple of spots along the trails where there are public outhouses. I guess the creep won’t try the same places he’s already almost been caught. But you saw him and he still ambushed me, so I guess there’s a good chance he’s a serial peeper and that he’ll do it again.” “Let’s just hope he’s not a serial killer,” Julia said. “Yeah,” Maya said, a chill down her spine. “It’s settled, then,” Julia said. They shook on it. Julia looked over at her friend. She’d always liked Maya, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t the reason that tipped the scales and convinced her to come on this trip just as much as her mother’s heartfelt pleas for family time. But she realized, now, that she’d never really looked at Maya before: not at her smooth, brown hair, her sun-tanned skin, the curves of her hips or her plump cherry lips. Not until she saw her naked the other day, just like she’d seen her many times before, except now it was different. Different how, exactly, she wasn’t sure. She’d never really had any feelings like that before—the tummy-tingling warmth of a smile even when her back was turned—at least not about another girl. She bit her lip to distract her from the thought. It was simply not within the realm of her mental reality that anything would ever come of it. Even if she thought she’d caught Maya looking at her with a new, strange glow in her eyes when she thought Julia didn’t notice. This was day three of their stakeout. They’d spent four hours the day before, and five the day before that, but the creep hadn’t shown up. This was the third and final outhouse along the trails, and it was a half-hour’s walk from her cabin. She felt a little unsafe at the thought, but shoved it away. They were hidden behind thick bushes and heavy oak trees, and could just barely see the back of the outhouse through a sliver of vegetation. Julia almost jumped as the grass rustled beside her, but it was only Maya fidgeting. She’d been shuffling back and forth, restless, occasionally dipping her knees into a squat then springing up for the past hour. “What’s the matter with you?” She whispered. “If you’re bored, we can go home and try again later.” “It’s not that,” Maya whispered back. “I need to pee.” “Oh,” Julia said. “Just go behind me and do it, nobody’s here anyway. I’ll keep the watch.” “But what if the creep comes?” Maya asked. “We need to be ready to run if he spots us. I can’t run with my panties around my ankles.” “Oh, good point,” Julia said. “You wanna head home? We can stop so you can pee when we’re safely away from the outhouse.” “I guess,” Maya said, a bit disappointed. “Unless...” “Unless what?” “Do you mind if I just pee myself? Like I used to? Is that too weird?” Julia looked over at her friend. She was blushing. How cute. Maya almost never blushed, but now, her cheeks were flushed. “I thought you stopped doing that. It is weird, but it never bothered me too much. Except when you’d suddenly decide we’re going to wrestle and you were damp and smelly.” “Uh,” Maya said. “My mom made me stop. But she’ll never find out. It’ll be dry by the time we get back.” “I, uh,” Julia said, now blushing herself. “I guess if you gotta go...” “Okay,” Maya said. She straightened herself, planted her feet apart, and then her shoulders sagged and she closed her eyes. Hissssss… Julia heard it before she saw it, a quiet trickle like a small brook on a summer day, and then Maya’s white shorts started to go transparent as pee cascaded down between her legs. I can see her panties through her shorts, Julia thought, and then, but why does that make me blush even more? Maya peed for a good thirty seconds, but the way she’d positioned herself, only a little bit got on her legs. Most of it disappeared into the grass. “Whew,” Maya said. “I needed that.” She looked down on herself and must have noticed that her shorts were now see-through. “Crap. Hadn’t thought of that.” “I don’t mind,” Julia said, and then her hand shot to her mouth. Did I really just say that out loud? But Maya appeared to find the statement innocent enough. “Oh, well, it’ll dry,” Maya said. “Why do you like peeing yourself?” Julia blurted out. It was something she’d wondered many times, but it never felt appropriate to ask. “I don’t,” Maya said, “but sometimes you just gotta go.” “When we’re out in the woods and not hunting a pervert, it would take you literally five seconds to squat down and pull down your clothes. So why don’t you?” “Hmm,” Maya said. “You caught me. I guess I do like it. I like the freedom of it. I don’t mind it, really, if nobody’s around to make me feel bad about it.” “Really?” Julia said. “It doesn’t give you a thrill or anything?” Maya blushed. “No, that would be too weird,” she said. Then: “Unless...” “Unless what?” “Did it give you a thrill to watch me do it?” “What? No, don’t be ridiculous,” Julia said, although she was blushing furiously and her heart was beating so hard she was sure the creeper could hear it if he was within a kilometer’s radius. They said nothing for a while, just observed the back of the outhouse. Nothing happened. After a while, Maya began playing with Julia’s hair, wriggling her finger around the tips. It was something she used to do when they were younger, but now, somehow, it wasn’t annoying. It felt good. After a while, Julia noticed her legs were restless. All of her was restless. She was fidgeting, and she had to admit that she, too, had to pee. Quite badly. She hadn’t gone for many hours, not since she got up from bed in the morning. She’d had quite a lot of lemonade and water since then. But she didn’t want to abort their mission, because then maybe Maya would go home. She lived nearby, but suddenly, Julia couldn’t bear the thought of her leaving. After a while, though, she couldn’t sit still. Maya almost jumped every time Julia disturbed the grass or the leaves, clearly on edge. “Jules...” Maya whispered. “Do you maybe need to pee, too?” “A little,” she admitted. It was an understatement. She felt like she was on the verge of leaking if she didn’t constantly move her legs and shift her hips back and forth. “Just go,” Maya said. “I already did and, look,” she gestured at her shorts. They were already well on their way to drying out. I can still see the outline of your panties, though, she thought. “I can’t,” Julia said. “I’m not like you. I can’t just pee myself.” “How did it feel when you had an accident the other day?” Maya asked. “Embarrassing. Terrifying. Humiliating.” “I don’t mean how did your mom make you feel about it. I mean, how did it feel?” Maya whispered back. “Relieved, I guess.” “It didn’t feel even a little bit good?” “It was warm, I guess.” “Let me help you,” Maya said, getting behind her and sliding her delicate fingers—so long and fine, the nails pretty even with all the time she spent in the woods—around Julia’s waist. “What are you doing?!” Maya pushed on her bladder. “Oof!” Julia began yelling, but Maya slid a hand over her mouth, an accidental kiss, to warn her about alerting the creep if he was around. The pressure made her knees buckle, and then she couldn’t quite hold it, and a gush of pee spurted out. Julia’s hand shot down to her crotch, and she squeezed herself, but all she succeeded in doing was scrunch up her skirt between her legs so that all the pee seeped into it as it shot out instead of falling through her panties to the ground. She managed to get it under control, but then Maya pushed again, and she lost all control. Urine gushed forth, and she couldn’t stop it, and her knees went weak. Maya supported her as she sagged forward. Julia spread her legs and watched as the pee poured down onto the ground, some of it trickling down her thighs and calves, tickling her. There was a large wet spot on her skirt, but the rest of the pee shot straight down into the grass. She peed for what seemed an eternity, letting her friend hold her up, and then finally the flow petered out. She felt hot and flushed and wet and… sticky? Oh god, she hadn’t gotten her period right now as well? But no, it was a different kind of stickiness between her legs, and she blushed as she realized it. Julia couldn’t even bring herself to be mad at Maya. She was right: it had felt good, to do this here, without anyone judging her for it. Julia looked down at herself, at the wet spot, at the trails of pee down her legs, at the wet tops of her sneakers. “You look beautiful, you know that?” Maya whispered. Julia looked up and met her friend’s eyes. There was a shimmer in them, and their heads moved closer together, and she looked down at her friend’s lips with a question. Maya responded by moving in closer… And then the moment ended abruptly as they heard a rustle in the woods behind them. Maya pulled her down so they were sitting squat down on the ground, mostly hidden by grass and bushes. This close to the ground, she could smell her own pee, but that wasn’t what was on her mind now. She saw a large back come out into the clearing where the outhouse sat, a flannel shirt on his back, and then the figure crouched down and began crawling under the outhouse. “It’s the creep,” Maya whispered. “Quick, call the police!” Julia fished out her phone, which hung attached to a string around her neck, and quickly dialed the number to the local police department. “Yes, this is Julia Fischer, yeah, we’re the ones who called earlier in the week about that creep in the outhouse… Yes,” she whispered, “we just saw a guy crawl under an outhouse on the Greenwald path, yes, the one that goes up towards Harrow’s Peak, but, like, the one closest to the main road… Ok.” “What did they say?” Maya asked. “They said they were sending a patrol. And that we should get away immediately and let them handle it. Guy might be dangerous.” “We’re not really going to do that, are we?” Maya asked. “I want to see this bastard get caught.” “Not unless he comes back out before the police gets here, then we run,” Julia said. They settled on observing the back of the outhouse from their hideout in the bushes and grass. They could just about see enough to notice if the creep got back out. Time passed slowly, both of them on edge, jumping at ordinary forest sounds like squirrels running or birdsong. After forty minutes, they heard someone coming along the path from the front of the outhouse. Then, they saw two shapes wearing what might be police uniforms—it was hard to tell, from fifty meters away with all those bushes, grass and trees in the way—come around the back. One of them crouched down and peered into the darkness underneath the outhouse, then fell onto his back with a shout. Somebody was pulling at his foot, it seemed like. His partner took hold of him under the armpits, pulled him back, then crouched down safely away from the hole and yelled: “Police! Get out of there right now!” Julia heard a hiss and looked over to see that Maya was peeing again. Just a little trickle. She seemed to be so absorbed in the drama, she probably didn’t notice. Or maybe, in her strange logic, she was aware and simply taking care of a distraction so she could focus on the main event. After a while, a dirty old man—in both figurative and literal senses of the word—crawled out from under the outhouse. Julia could make out white, thinning hair, a potbelly, and brown streaks on his jeans and shoes. One of the officers handcuffed the man while the other, the one who’d had his feet pulled out from under him, was talking on what looked like a police radio. He was too far away for Julia to make out what he was saying. It was satisfying, in a way, to see the creep get caught, but on the whole, it was a little anticlimactic. They’d spent close to fifteen hours over three days to stake this guy out, and at the end, there were no gun battles, no fisticuffs, not even a chase through the woods. Rationally, Julia realized this was probably close to the ideal outcome, but still, she felt a little cheated. Maya grabbed her hand. “Shall we head home?” She whispered. “Sure.” They walked homeward, hand in hand. Five minutes after they’d left their stakeout spot, however, Maya stopped her. Turns out she had unfinished business with Julia. More specifically, with Julia’s lips. Julia didn’t mind. Her face was practically glowing by the time they got back, and her skirt had even dried enough not to be noticeably wet. “Come on, it’ll be so much more fun if it happens overnight,” Maya said. It was almost midnight, and they were curled up together in Julia’s bed. It was a week after they caught the creep, and her parents had gone to visit an aunt of Julia’s in a nearby town. They weren’t due back until the day after tomorrow. On the wall above the bed, Julia had pinned a newspaper cutout. Man Found Hiding Under Outhouse, the headline read. On Wednesday evening, two hikers spotted a suspicious man crawling under an outhouse on the Greenwald trail. Several people had reported that someone was spying on the occupants of the public outhouses along the trails and rest stops in the county over the past week, but police had been unable to apprehend the culprit before now. More like didn’t try, Julia thought. The suspect, a sixty-three-year-old man, was taken into custody and charged with violation of privacy and public indecency… The article didn’t mention her or Maya’s names, although the police had called them into town and taken a statement. Neither of them felt the need to mention the detail that they’d both soiled themselves as a result of discovering the creep, nor the fact that they didn’t come upon him again by chance, as the police assumed, but had actively gone looking for him. “I can’t fall asleep like this,” Julia said, cradling her swollen bladder. Maya had been plying her with drinks all night, and now she really needed to pee. “I can think of something that’ll wear you out,” Maya said, planting a kiss on her lips, then moving her hand towards Julia’s breasts. Julia sighed and leaned into her. After their stakeout and the furious makeout in the aftermath, both of them were confused and didn’t know if what had happened was real, if it meant something, or was just a sort of reaction to what had happened. But then they’d tried kissing again, and again, and discovered they liked it just as much as the first time. As for the Other Thing… The peeing thing. Well, Julia had been skeptical, but it turned out that Maya’s thing wasn’t as innocent as she said. Or perhaps she’d just discovered another aspect of it that she enjoyed. After a couple of days of secret kisses, when they had finally sat down and decided they were actually going to be a real couple, Maya had tried to lure her into trying it again. And then, well, she’d said no at first, but then she really needed to pee when they were out in the woods, and Maya’s mother wasn’t home so they could go there and change, and, well… Suffice it to say that the sticky feeling between her legs and the heat that traveled far from the origin was still there. Especially when Maya held a hand between her legs as she let go. And that’s why she had now let herself be convinced to pee in her bed. She couldn’t imagine getting to sleep this desperate, but after Maya’s ministrations, which had caused her to leak a little bit into her underwear, she’d fallen asleep like a rock. Around four in the morning, as the birds were beginning to wake up outside, Julia’s bladder gave out. A trail of urine seeped through her lower lips, through her black panties, depositing itself neatly on the towel underneath her butt. Then the trail became a flood. Pee poured out of her. It traveled in all directions, under her butt, under her thighs, over to the side, spilling over the towel and soaking into the sheets. A little trail reached Maya’s hand, and she woke up, groggy, and smelled her hand. It smelled pungently of Julia. She lifted the sheets and watched the last of the pee leave her lover’s exhausted bladder, soaking into the towel and probably the sheets, too. No matter. They could wash the sheets in the creek, air out the mattress. Maya planted a kiss on Julia’s tummy, low, near the bikini line—careful not to touch the wet bits, she didn’t actually want to taste her pee, merely watch it helplessly slide out and glisten on her—and she smiled. To think that I have a creepy old pervert to thank for all of this. Ranpalan, bestrapperalive, arg08 and 6 others 9 Quote Link to comment
Bedwettingchik12 322 Posted June 18, 2020 Share Posted June 18, 2020 Always a fan of your work!! Quote Link to comment
Melificentfan 1,215 Posted June 18, 2020 ✨ Legendary Member Share Posted June 18, 2020 That was a excellent story and a very enjoyable read Quote Link to comment
Keita123 1,103 Posted June 18, 2020 Share Posted June 18, 2020 That was wonderful! Quote Link to comment
Bismiris 320 Posted June 18, 2020 Share Posted June 18, 2020 This isn't necessarily a criticism of the story, but of omo stories in general. For some reason, parents are always either assholes to their adult children or treat them like toddlers. I don't know about the rest of you, but if I had a 20 year old kid and they had an accident I'd treat them with respect and allow them their dignity. Accidents happen, that's a fact, but some characters in these stories act with so little regard for others, you'd think pissing your pants is a once in a lifetime event. It's especially jarring when a parental character takes their kid's accident to be an inconvenience. Anyone over the age of 10 is capable of doing the laundry, why does it suddenly ruin everything? Desperation is also treated this way. I get if it's 2 consenting adults participating in this fetish (i.e. bathroom control), but when someone is in distress and discomfort and the authority figure isn't respecting their autonomy it's genuinely upsetting to read. No reasonable sane person would go, "No we can't pull over to this rest stop despite you asking to for the past hour, we're going to be late to the thing." That's really it. Characters are the one thing I'm critical of in media, so when someone doesn't act like a person it really stands out to me. satyr and Theonlysaneperson 2 Quote Link to comment
satyr 1,314 Posted June 18, 2020 Author Share Posted June 18, 2020 2 hours ago, Bismiris said: That's really it. Characters are the one thing I'm critical of in media, so when someone doesn't act like a person it really stands out to me. Thank you for being honest! This is something I've been thinking about. You see, I enjoy this trope, up to a point. And often, the only way to make it not seem unnatural or cruel is to make the characters inappropriately young, which I'm not keen on doing. So, do you drop the trope? You could, but like I said, I kind of enjoy it, unless taken to ridiculous extremes. And the popularity of the trope among writers seems to indicate I'm not the only one. In this story, I tried to kind of lampshade the artificiality of it by contrasting a ridiculous parent with a much more reasonable and sympathetic one, who happens to be too timid to challenge the other. But in the end, I know it's gonna come across as weird, and I made the choice to include it anyway. That's gonna turn some people, like yourself, off, and that's fine. It's a fantasy, after all, and no fantasy is going to please everybody. iop098, PixelatedHeart, Bismiris and 1 other 4 Quote Link to comment
DerivativeWings 1,648 Posted June 18, 2020 Share Posted June 18, 2020 You're the real bandit, dropping pee-smut when I least expect it Quote Link to comment
Bismiris 320 Posted June 18, 2020 Share Posted June 18, 2020 1 hour ago, satyr said: In this story, I tried to kind of lampshade the artificiality of it by contrasting a ridiculous parent with a much more reasonable and sympathetic one, who happens to be too timid to challenge the other. But in the end, I know it's gonna come across as weird, and I made the choice to include it anyway. That's gonna turn some people, like yourself, off, and that's fine. It's a fantasy, after all, and no fantasy is going to please everybody. You did this in the best way possible. Maya has a history of wetting, so understandably her mother isn't too keen on it. Like I said, it's not a criticism of you or this story, but of the trope. Julie's parents may have acted rationally, but because we don't know their history they come across a bit off. Quote Link to comment
iop098 37 Posted June 20, 2020 Share Posted June 20, 2020 I liked the story, I do agree with the critique that the infantile treatment of adults is a little odd. It works well in more purposefully 'abdl' stories, or stories built around that sort of concept(like your great Developmental Biology series). Overall though I like the trope as well though. Quote Link to comment
bestrapperalive 183 Posted June 26, 2020 Share Posted June 26, 2020 Great story. I thought the treatment of the 'unreasonable parent causing/exacerbating an accident' trope was well handled. Is it realistic? Not exactly. Was it presented in a realistic enough way that I was able to suspend disbelief? For me, yes. Quote Link to comment
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.